


Grief

by eledhwenlin



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-06
Updated: 2005-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if she hadn't had this beautiful vision of a young boy running around in the forest? What if she hadn't turned around and headed back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I'm a die-hard slasher, but Aragorn/Arwen is one of the few het pairings that appeal to me - nevertheless writing this was hard work, but I was happy to find that [](http://mirabile-dictu.livejournal.com/profile)[**mirabile_dictu**](http://mirabile-dictu.livejournal.com/) liked it. :D

As she boarded the ship, she didn't let herself look back at the shores they were leaving for eternity. Her glance was fixed on the horizon, just as her thoughts were fixed on the present, occupied by the little small things that were asked of her. Arwen knew that, if she allowed her thoughts to stray, she would turn around without a second thought. But she had promised her father to sail to Arda and so she would do.

Around her elves prepared everything for the final departure, getting their luggage and food stored away, hoisting the sails as well as the anchor. With a sudden lurch the ship started moving. Arwen closed her eyes and let the tears spill, no longer holding back on her grief.

***

When the message arrived, Aragorn excused himself swiftly from his fellow comrades. Sitting down in a quiet corner, he opened the letter and started reading. When he was done, he read it all over again. And again. And again. Then he let the letter sink down and stared ahead blankly. He'd recognised the elaborate handwriting at once, there was no mistaking it. Arwen Evenstar had written this letter, no matter how much his heart wanted this letter to be forged, it simply didn't held up to be the truth.

Aragorn read the letter again, hoping to find some clue that would allow him to understand, something that told him that she'd written this under duress, that these weren't her own words. But the words didn't yield anything to his inquisitive mind and the facts written down didn't morph into what he had wanted to read. In the end he had to admit to himself that there wasn't a secret code, that this was indeed what Arwen had wanted to tell him, when she'd written the letter.

When a hand landed on his shoulder, he tensed for a short moment, until he realised who was with him.

"She left Middle-Earth."

A firm squeeze of his shoulder. "So she will see the evergreen valleys of Arda then."

Aragorn nodded mutely, as he found his throat closing up. Tears threatened, but with a jar he pushed them and the single matter reigning in his mind away. Right now there were other issues he had to take care. Grief had to be postponed until another time.

***

When all battles were fought, when all the debris had been cleaned away, all the corpses buried, only then the remaining members of the Fellowship allowed themselves to grief. The hobbits had started first, not being able to hold on to their feelings for long - Frodo had broken down first, when all the stress and emotions finally caught up with him. Sam had stayed calm throughout it all, had comforted his friends in their sadness, while coping with the events quietly himself.

Gimli had only stared bleakly, murmured something unintelligible and wandered off to be alone. Legolas had stayed at the tomb for a short while longer, then he'd gone after his friend. So only Gandalf remained and he contemplated the small hill silently, lost in his thought.

This line had died also and the people of Gondor would forever remain without king. It wasn't the vision Gandalf had seen his purpose in, but it wouldn't be changed by any amount of magic or faith. At least, so he consoled himself, Isildur's heir had been true to his lineage and fought like one of the kings of old. Only a stray arrow, aimed badly for it hadn't been able to kill Aragorn at once, had stopped him shortly, but he had continued fighting, until their final victory was for certain. Then he'd celebrated with the rest of them and by the time he'd gone to the Houses of Healing the poison in the arrow had spread in his body. His end had been short, but painful - Gandalf was the only of the companions who knew, as he'd accompanied Aragorn in his last hours. When the end had come, it had been a release.

Gandalf looked at the tomb one last time and felt grief settling in quietly. In the end you can't rescue them all and it was a lesson he'd learned bitterly.

***

The first time she saw the green shores, Arwen was taken aback with the beauty and serenity the land was exuding. It was a spell that seemed to take hold of her and calm her down, but it soon wore off. For although Arda was indeed filled with wisdom and laughter, it couldn't replace the love she'd felt towards a man she'd never see again, neither in this life nor after death. Her father frowned upon this, but she couldn't and wouldn't change it - it was the only thing she had left from him.

The days wore on and on and seemed to blend in together, until she couldn't tell one of another, but finally there were news. The very last ship from the Grey Havens arrived at Arda's shore and then Middle-Earth would truly be on its own, without the Eldar to take care of it in its needs. Left to men and dwarves (and hobbits, so she reminded herself with a smile), it would have to tend to itself, fight its battles alone. There was no interest anymore in its doings.

When the hobbits and Gandalf emerged from the ship's belly, Arwen smiled, for the first time in a time longer than she cared to know, awaiting tidings of the final battle and of - but that she didn't let herself think about. There had been a great change in Frodo, yet he seemed to thrive in the air of Arda. It was a joy to see Bilbo again, although time hadn't been nice to the old hobbit. Yet, the person she longed to see most was Gandalf, for he had been their messenger for such a long time that Arwen could not see him without bearing information of great value. And indeed he did, but it wasn't what Arwen had wanted, had expected to hear. His news shocked her, opened old wounds, ripped her insides apart and for the longest time she felt lost in time and space, not being able to put her grief into words. If only she had stayed, perhaps fate'd gone a different way. If only... it was a futile contemplation, made in the dark hours, and she knew. She cried, as her grief would last all eternity - there could be no consolation for her, no end, no quiet forgetting.

Standing at the shores she looked towards the East, crying. Eternity was hers, but what use was it to her. Arwen closed her eyes and wished she'd turned back, when she still had been able to. If only...


End file.
